Isaac
by COMEDY GOLD
Summary: As Stiles and his weapon came into his eye-shot, his eyes widened in fear and his flailing continued and the volume of his whimpers and whines increased. It was disturbingly the cutest yet most heartbreaking thing Stiles had ever seen. He was just a puppy. Stisaac!Friendship, includes BAMF!Hunter!Stiles and Puppy!Isaac (sorry if its a shit summary)


**PLEASE READ THIS!**

So...umm... this was originally supposed to be a multi-chapered hopefully long, hopefully good **STEREK** fanfiction but my brain does wherever it feels like doing so yeah...and this is just a scene i thought up a while back when trying to write the story.

**ALL YOU NEED KNOW (for now):** Stiles is Allison's brother and of course a hunter...and Isaac is just adorable

**Rate T**: because this website be tying up loose end these days

**DISCLAIMER:** i own nothing ...shit. (if i did Sterek would have legit happened since season one)

Yea I guess that's it...

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_Aim, steady, fzing! Thud!_

_Aim, steady, fzing! Thud!_

_Aim, steady, fzing! Thud!_

Aluminum arrows retreating from the straight bow's company and regrouping with the other arrows stuck to the oak three directly ahead. This was Stiles' way of letting off some steam, of clearing his mind, giving himself a chance to sort out his thoughts that were usually scattered by his ADHD mind. If he believed he can control his brain scrambling tendencies, he will or so he thinks.

_Aim, steady, fzing! Thud!_

He had to. Why did he choke at the sight of that werewolf? Why didn't the wolf attack him? Was that the creature that caused the attacks? No, it couldn't be, otherwise Stiles would be dead by now. Maybe it was out looking for the rogue wolf too, it probably had the same train of thought as the hunters and assumed that it would come out on a full moon in search of a kill. But it didn't. No one was reported missing or dead.

_Aim, steady, fzing! Thud!_

He'd bet everything he had that the wolf he encountered was from the Hale Pack. His actions seemed controlled and not one of the typical blood-lusting lycan clouded by the full moon. He's seen enough of those in his seventeen years to know.

_Aim, steady, fzing! Thud!_

When he was younger Chris told him tales of the Hale Pact in Beacon Hills, and in those stories it was said that they were a respected pack that prided them with how well they controlled their shit. On the full moon they would lock their anchor-less pack mates in the basement which was designed specifically to keep them in. Later the werewolf-proof basement would result in a major element of their demise.

Aim, steady, fzing! Thud!

The way the wolf moved he seemed liked an alpha, but he wasn't sure. The wolf was in his beta form just like the other one, if he had to guess, the lycan he encountered was an alpha and the smaller one was his beta. May be the Alpha was Derek Hale.

_Aim, steady, fzing! Thud!_

_Rustle!_

What?

Stiles was pulled out of his thoughts by the rustling of bushes. You might think that the sound was stimulated by the wind but there was no breeze in the chilly atmosphere. The noise was too strong to be coming from a wild animal. It sounded like the rapid shuffling and crackling of someone running on two legs.

Stiles' instincts kicked in as he instantly and flawlessly steadied, aimed and fired. This was then followed by a dire yelp and a whimper. Dead on target.

Thankfully, Stiles' natural instinct wasn't to kill but to slow down and hopefully stop and he did just that.

As he trotted through the forest to see what his target was he hoped that if it were human that there wasn't too much harm done. But what if it were really a human? A spike of guilt shot up his spine and propelled his legs to go faster. If it were possible that he broke the code, that he harmed a human… he tried reassuring himself that it's not like he killed the human, but still! The harm was already done; maybe he can play it off as an accident…

He let out the breath he didn't realize he was holding when he discovered that the target was in fact a werewolf. He was beta, a young one by the looks of it. The young hunter didn't even need the lycan to shift back to recognize his face. He was that innocent looking, curly haired blonde boy who would be seen hanging around Scott McCall and his friends on occasion. From what he gathered, the boy recently moved to Beacon Hills as well and was also on the lacrosse team. He had never heard the boy speak and he never made eye contact with anyone. The ground was the most interesting thing on Earth to him. He only spoke when spoken to as if he feared that people would be annoyed or lash out at him. His eyes were always red as if puffy as if sleep was never an option to him.

Now, he was a whimpering mess on dried up leaves with an aluminum arrow poking out the side of his right calve, flailing a bit not knowing what to do. As Stiles and his weapon came into his eye-shot, his eyes widened in fear and his flailing continued and the volume of his whimpers and whines increased.

It was disturbingly the cutest yet most heartbreaking thing Stiles had ever seen.

He was just a puppy.

"Stop it please…" it barely a whisper but the puppy hurt it and halted his actions as if an order had been barked at him. His eyes never left Stiles.

The hunter slowly approached the injured beta with caution, the closer he got to the wolf, the more the wolf tensed, "It's ok," he started with a light voice, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

The puppy relaxed ever so light but was still trembling, smart boy. Stiles loomed over him for a moment before crouching down to his eye level; he noticed the young lycan had tears in his eyes that were yet to fall. He reached out and placed his hand gently on his calve right above the part where the arrow was protruding. Surprisingly, the puppy relaxed completely.

He examined the injury and to his relief the arrow didn't pierce that deep into his skin, it seemed like it was already starting to heal, "Hey, I'm gonna have to pull it out, okay?" the wolf tense once more but said nothing, "I have an ointment in my pocket to help it heal faster but I have to get it out first."

The blonde must have been listening to the hunter's heartbeat as he spoke because he gave Stiles a short nod giving the OK. Stiles pulled out a tiny jar out of his pocket and uncovered it; the blonde could only assume that that was the ointment he mentioned. The hunter made eye contact with the blonde for a split second before the lycan broke it training his eyes back to his injured leg. He watched as the hunters pale hands gently gripped the arrow. He waited for the human to count to three as one would usually do but it never came. An involuntary cry escaped his lips before his brain could even register what was happening. When his brain caught on he felt two of the hunter's fingers caressing his wound in a circular motion with a lavender cream. The arrow lied beside the human's boots.

His pain was gone and his leg looked good as new. Stiles sighed in relief and a sincere smile found its way to his face, "There! Good as new!" the blonde was beyond confused, "I'm sorry about that by the way, I did it without thinking. After all these years it kinda came as second nature to me…" the puppy could only stare as Stiles babbled on, "here I am babbling, I'm sorry about that! I'm Stiles by the way…" he stretched out his hand to shake the puppy's.

The blonde stared at it for a moment trying to figure out if it was a trap. Since he was a toddler his father told him stories about those vicious hunters, how they mercilessly kill all werewolves in sight without batting an eye, that's why his kind hides from them. He knew for a fact that the boy in front of him was one of them; he just could never imagine that they start recruiting werewolf hunters so young! This boy…Stiles, had to be at least seventeen years old, he remembered him from his homeroom class. He enrolled in this school a week after he did and didn't make much of an effort to make any friends, he stuck to his sister and to Lydia because she found him interesting but he didn't latch onto them or anything. Scott was wary of him that day at school for some reason and now he saw why. The strange this was that he didn't sense any danger from Stiles, in fact he felt safe. The safest he's felt in years.

"I-I'm Isaac…"

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